


Don't Sacrifice Your Light For Me

by moariel



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Death, Deathfic, I tried to make this dramatic and Sad, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-RotJ, han dies in luke's arms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 16:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14336496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moariel/pseuds/moariel
Summary: Han Solo gets shot, and it's too late.





	Don't Sacrifice Your Light For Me

**Author's Note:**

> oof so I'm in an angsty mood these days. apologies for all the tears and pain that this will potentially cause  
> also I have no idea how to write death scenes well so hopefully this works

It was the end of the war. The fight against the remaints of the Empire was almost won. They could see the light at the end of the tunnel, bright and clear.

Everything was supposed to be alright. They were supposed to have their well-deserved happy ending, like in all those stories Luke had heard when he was a child. The good always prevails. The hero gets his happily ever after.

And now he is having to watch his happily ever after die right before his eyes.

 

It was the last battle against a handful of stormtroopers, on a distant planet, in the outskirts of the known regions of the galaxy. Han and Luke fought side by side, as they always did, ever since they met. Being beside each other during countless battles brought them closer together than any other experience in life could. They shared everything together - victories, losses, pain, joy, love and grief.

It wasn’t supposed to go the way it did.

Han wasn’t supposed to get shot.

Han was the best pilot in the galaxy and had amazing intuition, combined with incredible reflexes. He had gotten out of so many impossible situations that many started to think he was invincible.

But at the end of the day he was human. Human, made of flesh and blood. Fragile, some species would say.

And as he screamed out in pain when a blaster shot hit him straight in the back, Luke felt the worst pain of his life ripple through the Force.

Time seemed to slow down to an impossible pace as the young Jedi ran across the battlefield, falling to his knees upon seeing his best friend just… laying there.

“Han, HAN!” he heard himself scream, gathering his friend in his arms. They had to run. Now. Get away from the danger.

He heard the screams and shouts of fellow Rebellion troops, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying - everything seemed blurred, as if it was a dream. An insane, fucked up nightmare. He clutched Han’s limp form against his chest, praying to the Force, even though he knew it was too late.

He laid his fallen friend on a patch of grass further away from the battlefield. Han was still breathing, but one look at his injury told Luke more than he wanted to know.

“Han-” he gasped, tears already welling in his eyes. “Han, buddy, please. Please don’t leave me. Please. I’m begging you, Please-” he kept on blabbering, desperately holding onto his best friend in the entire galaxy. The person who’s been with him since the beginning. The one who helped him win this war.

“Kid…” he heard Han hiss weakly. Luke leaned in, now inches from Han’s face, so he could hear exactly what his friend is saying.

“Yes, Han, I’m here. I’m listening. I’m here. It’s gonna be okay,” he tried to comfort his best friend, though that could hardly sound convincing, through all the sobs he couldn’t hold in.

“Luke… take care of yourself. And Chewie,” Han whispered “tell him I’ll miss him” He coughed, blood coming out of his mouth. Luke instinctively rolled him on his side, to make him more comfortable. Han coughed out more blood, though Luke had a hard time seeing it at this point, due to the falling darkness as the sun set, and the tears that he couldn’t stop from streaming down his face.

“I will,” he reassured. He sat on the ground and pulled Han into his arms, stroking his friend’s face and hair. “I’m so sorry, Han” he whispered, quiet sobs following the statement.

“It’s okay, kid” Han whispered. “It’s all… alright. What a way to… to go out, huh.”

Was that an attempt at a smile Luke managed to catch through the veil of his own tears?

Of course, leave it to Han Solo to laugh at his own death.

“Han, you’re the best person I’ve ever known.” Luke confessed. He saw his friend’s breathing get weaker with every passing second. There wasn’t much time.

And there was still so much to say.

There were so many things that had been left unsaid over the years. The looks they shared, the smiles they exchanged, the wordless embraces after each battle that were more sincere than anything that ever came out of each of their mouths. They were supposed to have the whole eternity to figure things out, and talk about their feelings.

And this pathetic battle - the last battle before the ultimate victory - it took it all away from him.

Life has already taken too much from him.

Suddenly, Luke felt something more powerful than anything he’s ever felt in his entire life.

Rage.

Dark, thick, all-consuming. Blinding.

“I’m gonna kill them.” he growled through gritted teeth. “All of them.”

Nobody could see the little flash of fiery orange that lit up his eyes for a second

Luke wasn’t even thinking as he grabbed the handle of his saber, head swimming with anger fueled by pain and loss. He was ready to kill everyone in his wake, ruthless and merciless.

But before he had the chance to move and get up, he felt trembling fingertips on his cheek. He looked at his dying friend, who was reaching out - physically - with his last bits of energy.

“Hey, kid…” Han whispered, voice barely audible now. “I’m… not worth it. Don’t… sacrifice your light… for me.”

Han sighed. His eyes closed.

“Han,” Luke heard himself say, once again. As if it was a distant call, coming from somewhere far beyond his body and mind. “HAN!”

Luke leaned in. His friend was barely breathing.

“Han,” he whispered, this time not even trying to control the pain in his voice. “Han. Please. Don’t go. I need you. I’ve never got to tell you how much you mean to me, I-” he was interrupted by a sharp inhale. Then…

“I never… got to tell you… many things…” Han gasped. He was barely holding on.

The end was near.

Luke held his breath.

Another shaky inhale.

“Luke,”

The name, although spoken weakly by a dying soul, rang in the night air with an energy that was indescribable. There was nobody else in this galaxy that made Luke feel so fond of his own name whenever it was spoken. And in this moment, it rang with such finality, like the bells of doomsday, or a war cry right before a battle. Like a statement, a full stop at the end of the sentence.

And yet, it was the most grounding and comforting sound Luke had ever heard in his life.

Han Solo took his final breath and spoke.

“Luke... I love you.”


End file.
